


Battle Of The Blades

by hazelandglasz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Battle of the Blades, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, TV Show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6726583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Battle of the Blades brings two very different styles of skaters together: hockey players are paired with prominent figure skaters to perform figure skating routines. <br/>It's not that Jack doesn't want to participate. It's just that he'd rather ... not participate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Of The Blades

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by two truly fantastic pieces of fanart, and I just ran with it  
> French Canadian Lexicon at the end ^^

It’s not that Jack doesn’t _want_ to do it.

It’s more like Jack … would rather _not_ do it.

But Georgia, and Tater, and, surprisingly enough, Guy and his father, insist so much on how much fun and how much good publicity it could possibly be that he finally relents.

“If I make a fool of myself, it will be on your conscience,” he says with a crooked smile, eyes on his plate.

Guy nods seriously while Tater beams at him. “Don’t worry, Zimmboni,” he says, clapping Jack on the back and nearly sending him face planting in his white eggs omelette, “Bittle good skater, you will not fall on your ass.”

Snowy definitely whispers something about Jack’s ass being more than enough to soften that fall, and Jack smiles at the usual chirp.

“Bittle, eh?”

“Eric Bittle, U.S. silver medal at the latest Olympics.”

Jack remembers the figure skater--not necessarily his official program, but definitely the whole gala routine over a Beyonce medley.

“He’s so small,” he says to himself, and Tater looks at him before wrapping an arm around his shoulder to rub the top of his head.

“You not so big, Zimmboni!”

“Ha ha, let me go!”

“Itsy bitsy Zimmboniiiiii!”

“Ha ha!!”

* * *

 

\---

When Jack gets to the practice rink, the figure skater is already there, and he observes him.

Just because they’re going to be partners, nothing creepy about it.

Eric Richard Bittle, a figure skater from Georgia--not the first state Jack would have associated with ice skating, to be honest--who has managed to win America’s heart as well as many medals with his speed and agility and lovable attitude with the media.

Jack envies his ability to shrug every negative comment, to keep on smiling in public no matter what.

Now that’s strength.

But to see him skating around the rink …

Jack may be biased, but there is something “hockey-y” to the way Bittle leans forward in that curve, arms crossed in his back, gaining speed until he zooms by Jack and launches himself in the air.

He’s airborne, a true vision and Jack wishes he had a camera with him.

Jack knows why they have been paired up--the producers really wanted Eric on the show, and Jack has been pretty vocal about his bisexuality, with the support of the Falconers and his father.

He supposes he makes sense to have them as the first male pair on the show.

Other skaters are arriving, other hockey players who all huddle up around Jack to look at the skaters.

“Hey Jack.”

“Uncle Mario!”

Some of the players snicker into their elbows, but most are just in awe of Mario Lemieux being in their midsts.

 _Meh_ , for him he’ll always be Uncle Mario, the one who taught Jack how to tape his stick and who laughed when Jack threw up on him after one too many “let’s play helicopter with baby Jack!!”.

“Who’s your partner, _fils_?” Mario asks looking at the ice.

“Euh, Eric Bittle. What are you doing here?”

Mario laughs in that sweet way of his and he gently claps Jack’s back. “Well, I thought it’d be fun.”

“Uh-uh.”

“And I wanted to compete against you without breaking my hip.”

“Uh-uh.”

“... Alexa wanted me to.”

Jack smirks at his ‘uncle’. “I thought so.”

“Ah, and Austin wants a signed Falconer’s jersey.”

An exclamation comes from the assembly, and they both return their gaze to the ice.

“Looks like your partner is a talented jumper,” Mario deadpans as Bittle, to the cheers of the other skaters, does an encore of his Beyoncé routine which includes an upright spin--truly spectacular--and two double axels.

“Looks like it.”

“I heard him say that he wanted to pay a tribute to Surya Bonaly.”

Jack groans. “Oh no, he wants to do a backflip?”

“Yep.”

“ _Calice_. And lands on one blade?”

“We sure can try.”

The two hockey players startle at the voice that comes from their right, and Jack comes face to face with one beaming, if a little bit flushed, Eric Richard Bittle.

 _Oh_.

\---

They spend the first day on ice, first making sure that the hockey players don’t “accidentally” check their partners--out of habit, you never know what can happen.

And “Dearie” Darling definitely checked his partner on purpose, Jack can tell.

Poor thing.

It’s surprisingly easy to skate with Eric--”call me Bitty, everybody does in the Rink”--; one might say that it’s the best casual skating Jack has ever done on ice ever since he joined the NHL.

But Eric matches Jack’s long strides with ease.

“You really are a great skater,” Jack says quietly when they take a break to let the … less graceful hockey players, shall they say, practice a little bit more.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Bitty replies with a laugh in the back of his voice which, Jack notes, only elevates his Southern drawl. “And I have to admit, you’re not as, uh …”

“Not as much as an oaf as you thought?”

Bitty shakes his head, but there is a new crimsonian hue to his cheeks that has nothing to do with exertion. “I meant that you are not as rough as your colleagues, that’s all.”

“Uh-uh.”

Jack doesn’t even realize he is chirping Bitty like they have been skating for years until he is, and yet, it comes almost naturally to him.

“Come on, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says, skating out of the rink, “let’s see how well you fare on figure skating blades.”

Jack gulps, and follows him.

\---

“Very good, Jack.”

Jack feels like he’s five all over again.

“I’m going to let go now.”

Putting skates for the first time.

“Jack, let go of my hand, you can do this.”

He can’t do this.

He can do this?

“See?”

Jack smiles at Bitty, keeping his balance on the thinner blades as they skate around the rink. From the corner of his eye, Jack can see that Mario has his arms stretched to the side like it’s going to help him, so yeah, he’s doing pretty well.

“And remember,” Bitty says as he skates backwards and tabernacle, he’s going to have to learn how to do that, isn’t he, “keep a little flex in your feet, to avoid hitting the pick.”

Jack nods, humming under his breath and trying not to focus on the way Bitty skates, one feet behind the other like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Of course _that_ ’s how he falls.

It’s not like he’s been checked, but Jack still goes flying, landing on his hip--good thing he knows how to fall properly--, a swear on his tongue.

“Oh my goodness, Jack, are you okay?”

But Bitty is right there, leaning over him and hands hovering over him like he wants to check for an injury, and for some reason, that makes Jack smile.

So he smiles.

And as Bitty lets out a breath of relief, as the rest of the participants laugh--now a fall has occurred, they won’t be the first ones--Jack takes a deep breath.

Hopefully that will be the only time his ass meets the ice.

“Come on Jack,” Bitty says, lifting Jack from his ice with only one hand. “Let’s do this without falling, and maybe I’ll show you my trick.”

“ _Trique_?!”

It better not mean what Jack thinks it means.

Even if a small part of his brain wouldn’t mind getting a show of Bitty’s trique, if he’s completely honest here.

“I have a little something--”

Excuse you?!

“--to skate backwards without ever falling. Foolproof recipe.”

Ah.

“Ah a trick.”

“Ain’t that what I said?”

“Sure, sure.”

Jack is in so much trouble, isn’t he.

 _Torrieux_.

\---

“I fucking swear to fucking God, I am a fucking athlete, fucking Hell!”

Jack laughs silently as he unties his skates in the locker room, and he’s not the only one, as the Blues D-man vents and rants.

Truth be told, he did look like Bambi learning how to walk the entire day on ice--can’t feel good.

“It will get better,” Mario says calmly, reaching to pat Harrold on the back until the relatively short man sighs and sits down. “It’s new for all of us, you’ll see.”

“Yeah, even Manon fell more than a couple of times,” Jack adds, and they all nod. If an Olympic champion needs time to adjust, they all have an excuse.

“You’re right,” Harrold says as lets himself fall in a seat. “It’s just … frustrating.”

They all make various sounds of agreement, until Mario looks back at Jack with a smirk. “Pretty impressive for a first day,” he says, and Jack finds himself under the scrutiny of the other men in the room.

“Yeah, you managed quite well, with that backward skate.”

Jack can feel his neck and his ears heating up. “Bitty showed me how to do it,” he mumbles, focusing on his hands.

“ _Bitty_ , eh?”

“Eric, uh, told me to call him like that. He asked if he could call me Zimmboni too.”

Mario chuckles. “What did you say?”

“That Jack was just fine.”

That makes Mario laughs harder and he moves onto the glory days of his own nickname.

Jack keeps his head down, and a small smile makes its way to his lips.

He _did_ did pretty good, thanks to Bitty.

This could actually be fun.

\---

This is a nightmare.

“My hand goes where?”

Bitty rolls his eyes and Jack glares at him.

“Come on, Jack,” Bitty repeats, stepping forward on the wooden floor and waving at their coach. “You lift me like I’m a hockey stick and you just scored a hat trick, simple.”

Jack would be impressed at Bitty’s metaphor if he wasn’t so focused on the how’s of it all.

“Isn’t it … inappropriate?”

“Your hand on my butt?”

“Well, yes!”

Bitty shrugs and waves his hand again. “Psh, it’s nothing.”

He pauses and gives Jack a long, considering look.

Like he can see right through him.

Like he can tell that the problem is not that Jack doesn’t want to touch his butt.

Quite the contrary.

“Maybe we can start with a simple waist hold lift?” he suggests, and Jack could kiss him.

He could, honest.

“Let’s see how long he can keep you up there,” Katya says, a hint of a smile on her face.

All the other pairs in the gym stop to look at them and Jack takes a deep breath as Bitty comes to stand in front of him.

He’s so small.

“Come on Jack, pick me up and lift me.”

But not fragile.

Jack puts his hands on Bitty’s waist--and it is a itty bitty waist--, fanning his fingers wide for a better grip, and he lifts the man over his head.

“See, Ain’t that difficult after all.”

Jack looks up and sees Bitty taking a pause, bending a leg at the knee. A look in the mirror shows him that it’s very …

Artistic.

They make quite the pair.

“Okay, now throw me and I’ll twirl.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I promise it will look fun, and I’m the one doin’ all the hard work!”

“What if I drop you?”

“Then we’ll do it again!”

Bitty’s accent is heavy when he’s getting annoyed.

And Jack still has him over his head.

Katya comes closer, hands in front of her like she’s prepared to smooth Bitty’s fall shall it happens. “Okay boys, one, two, three!”

Jack pushes and sens Bitty airborne.

It’s like he sees it in slow motion, the way Bitty crosses his arms over his chest to be more aerodynamic, the way his shirt rises a little, showing a taut stomach contracted as he works his abdominal muscles to effectively twist in the air.

Like it’s nothing.

Making a twirl that seems to travel down to his feet.

Before falling back to Jack’s hands.

“Catch!”

Jack’s hands end up under Bitty’s armpits and he lowers him to the ground.

“Told you it would be fun,” Bitty tells him with a wide smile as their competitors whistle and catcall for them. “Now let’s take a break, I want to see Florent lifting Marion.”

Jack can only nod, his mind still reeling over the way Bitty makes something so complicated, so artful, so demanding, makes it look so easy and natural.

 _Oh_.

\---

The following day, when Jack arrives at the ring, laughter echoes through the arena.

And Bitty is holding one of the female skaters as they skate around, keeping her from falling as she skates on one foot.

When Bitty slowly lifts one leg, sliding it along her waist until they are mirroring each other, Jack can hear his jaw popping out of its hinges.

_“Viarge qu’c’est beau!”_

Jack looks to his right and sees Mario with Uncle Denis, both men looking like they have been struck by lightning.

“It is.”

“You’re lucky, _fils_ ,” Mario whispers. “Maybe he can try doing that figure with you.”

“Nah,” Jack says with a twist of his mouth. “No way.”

“Never say never.”

“Sure.”

Jack returns his eyes to the ice, where Bitty and the brunette he was skating with have stopped, animately chatting. Now that they are not moving, Jack recognizes her as Bitty’s previous partner.

But he thought she had stopped skating to be a full-time mother?

Guess the Ice always finds a way to call you back, he muses, eyeing his uncles trotting down the stairs to their partners.

What if Bitty could actually lift him? Now that makes for a nice [picture ](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/119046803802)...

\---

“... Bitty.”

It had to happen at least once.

That doesn’t mean that Jack’s heart beats any less faster when Bitty’s hands slip out of his reach and he goes sliding across the ice without even a wince.

“Bitty!” Jack shouts, quickening his pace to get to him, still lying down.

“Ow.”

“Bitty?” Jack repeats in a more hushed fashion, kneeling down, his hands hovering around Bitty’s head, and he gets it, now, why Bitty looked so worried when he fell.

“Goodness gracious me,” Bitty says, sitting down and rubbing his thigh, “maybe less energy next time?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah yeah,” Bitty says with a smile as he gets to his feet, accepting Jack’s hand even though he doesn’t appear to need. “Come on, y’all, back to business!”

There is quite the gathering around them, but it dissolves to just the camera crew at Bitty’s words.

Bitty brushes lints of ice from his shirt and tights and looks at him. “One more time with, uh, less feelings, okay?”

Jack finds the strength to smile in Bitty’s warm eyes. “Okay.”

\---

“Come on, Jack, give us poor schmucks a chance!”

Jack laughs as Harrold whines after them while Bitty and him skate flawlessly through half a routine.

“They’re being jealous,” Bitty sing-songs as he twirls back to Jack’s chest, folding their joined hands to his chest.

“As they should be,” Jack says, feeling his whole body heating up at the close proximity and, yes, the intimacy of the posture before Bitty unfolds his hold and goes to stand by Jack’s side.

“Don’t get cocky, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Bittle.”

Bitty lets out a giggle before shaking his head. “You need to relax those hips, though,” he says thoughtfully.

Jack raises one eyebrow at Bitty. “Are you saying I’m stiff?”

That’s definitely a blush on Bitty’s face and neck, and Jack’s smile widens. “Bless your heart, no. I’m just sayin’ you need to shake what your mama gave you.”

Katya starts the music again, and Bitty skates behind Jack while they get back in position. “Relax, Jack,” he says softly. “Let the music guide you too.”

His hands brush Jack’s hips before they get ready, and Jack gets flushed all over.

“And a one, a two, one two three go!”

\---

“What about I jump on Jack’s back?”

“Already done.”

“What about Jack jumps on my back?”

The producer seems to think it through before shaking his head. “Nah, we need something fresh, without revealing your best moves.”

“Well y’all tell me, ‘cause I’m out of ideas.”

Jack observes the discussion, mouth twitching when the ‘out’ comes a bit more Canadian out of Bitty’s mouth than he ever did.

“Why not get back to back, James Bond-like,” he offers, and they all turn to look at him.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea,” the producer says slowly.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Bitty tells him, just a tiny bit aggressive, “Jack has a good eye for pictures after all.”

“Sure, sure. Let’s go with your idea, Jack.”

“Thank you,” Jack says softly in Bitty’s ear as they walk back to the green screen to record their presentation piece. “For defending me like that.”

Bitty looks up at him and cocks one eyebrow. “I got your back, Zimmermann.”

“And me yours, Bittle.”

\---

**_Opening night_ **

“He’s the sweetest peach from Georgia, two World Champion titles in pairs and one bronze medal, while he’s the prince of Hockey, NHL sweetheart. The first ever male pair on Battle of the Blades, Eric Bitty Bittle and Jack Zimmbonni Zimmermann!”

The applauds are thunderous as Jack and Bitty skate around the rink, and they exchange a relieved glance as they simply smile to the crowds and cameras in their matching plaid shirts.

“Sweetest peach of Georgia, seriously,” Bitty mumbles while they join the other team behind the curtain.

“You _are_ a sweet man, Bitty,” Jack says calmly, delighted to see that blush spread on the back of Bitty’s neck.

“Aren’t you the sweet talker,” Bitty retorts, batting Jack’s shoulder.

“Focus, Bitty,” Jack mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Jack, we got this,” Bitty says, reaching to touch Jack’s arm.

\---

When the lights turn back on them, Jack can feel his hands tremble under Bitty’s over his hips, as the music starts.

Bitty tightens his hold and starts moving his hips.

_“Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends ….”_

It’s like when his mother taught him to ride a bike, all he needs is to follow Bitty’s lead.

Bitty winks when they come face to face, and all the hard work, all of Jack’s competitiveness and will to win money for the youth shelter replace his nerves.

He can do this.

_“No I won’t sleep toni-ight …”_

He’s still a little stiff, sure, and he guesses he’ll have to follow Bitty’s advice to dance on solid ground to loosen it up, but he’s not too shabby.

When he holds his hand and twirls Bitty around, the crowd goes wild and so does Jack’s heart, but it’s only the beginning of the program, isn’t it.

Lifting Bitty over his head, holding his leg to give him balance is always muscle memory at this point, and Jack smiles when Bitty brushes his cheek with his finger as he opens his arms.

Never did he do it once during rehearsals, so it must mean that Jack is doing well.

For now, he pulls Bitty down to sit on one knee, then the other, in time with the music, and Jack doesn’t have to remind himself to smile for the audience.

_“What are you waiting fo-or?”_

\---

**_Week 2_ **

When the mesmerizing, sexy music starts, Jack has to remind himself how to breathe.

He may be a professional athlete, he may be out about his sexuality, but Jack thinks he could have done a little while longer without having to face his burgeoning feelings for his partner.

Because there are feelings, an attraction, for the figure skater--his strength, his body, his sense of humor, his unwillingness to let Jack get away with his moods, his eyes …

_Crisse de calice._

“Let’s work on the choreography before taking it to the ice,” Bitty says, clapping his hands as he goes to stand with Jack on the mats. “Maybe this time I can try lifting you through a figure.”

They walk around each other to Katya’s recommendation, each having one hand on the other’s neck and Jack gulps at the focus in Bitty’s eyes.

“So there you’ll be gliding backwards, Bitty, and you both lift a leg--let’s see if you can hold it in a stationary manner.”

They both take a deep breath, and Jack tries to keep his leg as straight as possible.

“Rest it a little on my hip, like that,” Bitty tells him, his calf lightly nudging Jack’s hip.

It gives him balance, but also a wave of heat--gotta make some compromise, he supposes.

“Jack, put your foot back on the ground and help Bitty to your lap.”

“What?”

“Here, I’ll show you,” Bitty says, putting his own foot on the mat and giving Jack an impulsion to literally jump in his lap, and Jack follows before he can comprehend what’s happening.

“Or we can do it that way, that’ll be surprise for everybody,” Katya comments, making notes on her pad.

“Hi.”

Bitty is smiling at him, hands gripping Jack’s and keeping him upright.

“H-hello,” Jack replies because it’s the right thing to do. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“Didn’t think I could lift you, did you.”

“Not with me sitting in your lap, no,” Jack says, standing up. “Let’s do it again.”

Bitty’s smile is nothing but cocky as he straightens up. “Let’s.”

\---

**_Week 3_ **

“Again.”

Both Jack and Bitty groan.

“Again. You weren’t in sync. Bitty, you need to slow down a bit, you are out of tempo and you’re unbalancing Jack.”

.

“Again. Jack’s left feet ripped.”

.

“Again.”

“Again.

“Again.”

“Aaaaargh!”

Jack is frozen on the ice as Bitty stomps his way out of the rink.

“Go after him,” Katya says. “I’ll let you guys take a break.”

“Bitty?” Jack calls, entering the locker room, where his partner is sitting down, his head in his hands. “You alright?”

“Humph.”

Jack goes to sit next to him, hands between his legs.

He’s not good at comforting people, but he can be a solid presence of support.

“I know we can do this,” Bitty’s muffled voice comes from between his fingers, “but it’s so hard, and I don’t want to disappoint y’all.”

A pause, and Bitty drops his hands to look straight at Jack. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Jack’s heart beats faster, he can tell, it’s like he’s anticipating a hip-check. “You’re not,” he says softly, scooting closer to Bitty on the bench. “It’s only natural that we face hurdles. But we can overcome them.” Jack pauses, and reaches for Bitty’s knee. “Together.”

Bitty smiles tentatively before giving him a firm nod. “Together.”

\---

**_Week 5_ **

Jack does his best to keep from hyperventilating in front of the cameras but it’s a close call.

_FailedfailedfailedIfailed…_

“Jack!”

Bitty is rushing after him, but how can he, after Jack dropped him like a bag of old poutine, God, what a mess.

Jack tries to control his breathing, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t even _breathe_ right, _oh God …_

“Jack.”

Bitty’s voice comes like through a bucket of water and Jack is going to puke.

A hand brushes his chest while something is lifting Jack’s arm, but it feels like they’re made of lead.

“Breathe with me, Jack,” Bitty says, keeping Jack’s hand over his heart. “In, and out.”

Jack feels Bitty’s heartbeat, constant, strong, oh so strong, how is he so strong …

“In. And out, Jack, breathe with me.”

It continues for hours, God knows how long, until the “bucket of water” dissipates and Jack can breathe again.

“I’m alright, Jack,” Bitty says, voice barely above a whisper, his hand sliding up to cup the back of Jack’s neck. “Yes, I fell, but it happens all the times.”

“I h-hurt y-you.”

“Nah, I’m all good.”

“B--Eric …”

“Oh goodness, look at you,” Bitty coos, wiping Jack’s brow with a wet clothe. “Jack, I promise, I’m a little shaken by it all, but I’m alright. We’ll need to work on that death spirale some more, and we’ll nail it.”

“...”

“Together.”

Jack looks up, and Bitty’s eyes are wide, right here, so close that Jack can see speckles of lighter brown in the midst of his irises.

“Together.”

\---

_**Week 7** _

“This is so awkward.”

Jack tries to laugh it off, but he does feel very … embarrassed, to be put on the spot like that.

Sure he can do it--six times repeating the move without falling on his ass have taught him that--but he doesn’t have to like the solo portion of this routine.

“Dig into your inner diva, Jack,” Bitty calls, arms crossed in his back as he skates backward, beckoning Jack. “We all know it’s here. Don’t be afraid to be melodramatic.”

Jack rolls his eyes but he does, opening his arms as wide and as dramatically as he can without feeling the need to laugh.

“Okay, now get ready.”

Bitty skates closer, and lets himself fall towards Jack, and Jack is here to catch him, the two of them them moving together to straighten Bitty up and lift him in the air in one smooth movement.

“And now you go,” Bitty says, skating away in a twirl, and Jack skates away too, gathering some speed before slowly lifting his leg behind him, parallel to the ice as he takes the turn.

“See,” Bitty says, skating next to him and mirroring it, “the dramatic arms are useful.”

Jack slowly widens the opening of his arms and while it hinders his speed, it definitely gives him more balance, helping him keep his leg up til the turn is over.

“You were right,” he tells Bitty before letting his leg down to the ice--God he hopes he’s as graceful as he thinks he is. “And now …”

Bitty takes his distance, eyes on Jack and he bites his lower lip--it’s just for half a second, but it gives Jack the boost he needed to try the move.

Granted, it’s nothing compared to Bitty’s twirls and axels and whatnots, but he still did it.

He jumped and turned.

Jack has no qualms about pumping his fist in the air as he returns to Bitty who welcomes him with open arms, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he lifts Jack in a fierce hug.

“You did it!”

“I did it!”

“You are incredible, Jack.”

Jack smiles and shakes his head, but when he looks down, Bitty is serious.

And looking in awe.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks, pushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

Bitty lets him go, a blush on his cheeks as he skates backwards, away from Jack, eyes wide as his fingers reach for his mouth.

“No, no, nothing, it’s just--I need--I’ll be right back,” Bitty stammers, speeding away and out of the rink, leaving Jack to be congratulated by Katya and Mario, who stayed even after his elimination for “moral support.”

\---

_**Week 8 - Finals** _

Jack wouldn’t say that Bitty is behaving weirdly.

First of all, that would be pretty rude, and second of all, it’s …

It’s not weird, exactly, even if it’s weirding Jack out; it’s just that Bitty seems hellbent on keeping some sort of distance between.

Given the song he picked for their finale performance, that’s not about to happen.

Jack is getting a little frustrated when one of the producer comes up to them. “We have some visitors for you,” he announces, and while Bitty skates towards a petite woman whose drawl fills up the arena, Jack smiles at his father.

On figure skates.

_“Bonjour Papa.”_

“ _Bonjour fils_.” Bob pulls him in a bearhug. “I’m so proud of you--everybody is.”

Jack tightens his hold around his father. “Merci p’pa.”

“Mr. Zimmermann?”

They both turn to look at the Bittles. “Hello,” bob says with his trademark grin. “It’s nice to meet you in the flesh, Mr. Bittle.”

“Oh please, call me Bitty,” Bitty replies, flustered and shy--awestruck, maybe? “My father is a big fan of yours.”

Bob laughs and shakes Bitty’s hand. “And I’m a big fan of what you’re doing on ice with my son,” he says, making them both blush.

Bitty looks at Jack, and there it is, that softness tainted with sadness that has been haunting Bitty’s eyes for the past week.

“I’ll let y’all be together,” Bitty finally says when he looks away from Jack, skating back to his mother.

_“Saint-Ciboire, mais qu’est-ce tu fais là?”_

Jack looks at his father with a bland look. “What, what am I doing?”

_“Avec ton chum!”_

_“C’est pas mon chum!”_

_“Mais tu voudrais qu’il le soit.”_

It’s not even a question--Bob Zimmermann knows Jack far too well.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks quietly.

Maybe that’s why Bitty has been taking his distance--because he can tell Jack is attracted by him, is in love with him, and he doesn’t want to say anything for the show’s sake?

No, that doesn’t sound like Bitty.

“Non,” Bob says and Jack lets out a breath of relief. “But if you want something, you need to make sure you did everything you could to get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do what your heart tells you to do.”

“... _Oh_.”

“Go, fils.”

Jack looks around the rink, and he can’t find Bitty’s blond hair.

_“J’reviens!”_

Jack runs, even on the thin blades, desperate to find Bitty, to tell him everything, to tell him how he feels to--

***sniffles***

Jack freezes, and turns to the locker room.

“Bittle?”

“Oh Lord,” comes Bitty’s voice, small and heart wrenching in the pain laced in it. “And you’d think I’ve learned, but no, here I go, falling for him like an idiot …”

“Bittle.”

“... Jack?!”

Jack goes to him, and here he is.

Eric Bitty Bittle, eyes puffy and red because he’s been crying--because of Jack?

Because he …

Loves Jack?

And he thinks he’s an idiot because of it? But why …?

 _Oh_.

For the same reason Jack thought he was an idiot.

All the speeches Jack prepared, all the things he wanted to say, they all fly out of the window and Jack takes the couple of steps that separate him from Bitty.

“My goodness, are you alright?” Bitty asks, and that’s the Bitty Jack knows, the Bitty he fell head over heels for, concerned and caring. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck!”

“Bitty.”

They both look at each other, Bitty slowly blinking as he takes Jack in, and Jack makes his decision.

If he can’t say it, he’ll show it.

Before he can spook himself out of it, Jack leans forward, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against Bitty’s.

His hands find Bitty’s cheek and the small of his back on their own accord, that’s for sure, because Jack is way too focused on the way Bitty’s mouth feels.

Divine, that’s how.

Like everything Jack always thought he didn’t deserve, but does actually.

Bitty tilts his head, lets a little hiccupy giggle before deepening the kiss, his hands on Jack’s chest.

Jack pulls away, and they lean their foreheads together.

“Oh.”

\---

“I don’t know if it’s the finale, or the produce of all those weeks of work, but everything was worthy of an Olympic program!”

Jack and Bitty glance at each other, still panting from the intensive routine that was their finale performance.

“And talk about chemistry!”

Their smiles grow just a tiny bit, pulling at the corner of their mouths as the crowd cheers on.

“I can only applaud the bold choice that you made for your song--emotional, powerful, empowering even.”

“Yes, ‘Halo’ was definitely the right choice for you two. I just want to talk more about that lift you performed, Eric, truly a masterpiece.”

“And you made it look so easy too!”

“Right on time with the song--Olympic worthy, I’m tellin’ ya!”

As they skate away, back to the benches, Jack takes Bitty’s hand in his and squeezes just once.

_“Everywhere I’m looking now, I’m surrounded by your embrace ...”_

**Author's Note:**

> French Canadian Lexicon
> 
> Fils : Son
> 
> Calice : Fuck
> 
> Trique : Boner
> 
> Torrieux : Shit
> 
> Viarge qu’c’est beau : God isn’t it beautiful
> 
> Crisse de calice : Fucking shit
> 
> Bonjour Papa : Hi Dad
> 
> Saint Ciboire mais qu’est-ce tu fais là : Holy shit what are you doing?
> 
> Avec ton chum : With your boyfriend
> 
> C’est pas mon chum : He’s not my boyfriend
> 
> Mais tu voudrais qu’il le soit : But you wish he was
> 
> J’reviens : Be right back


End file.
